


Its Always the Quiet Ones

by Quetzalcoatls



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Biology, Alpha is a horny old mech who hasnt gotten laid in a lonnnng time, Alpha is a pervert, M/M, Primes being weird, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, its smoopy, just a little, sorta first time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 08:56:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9483794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quetzalcoatls/pseuds/Quetzalcoatls
Summary: Optimus headed back to the archives soon after taking command of the Autobots to search for information on the AllSpark. Alpha Trion was glad to see his favorite student once again, and feels that perhaps its time his apprentice learned what it was like to be taken by another Prime.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so..... i write porn now? *eyes fic uncertainly* *glowers at cambion* dis is your fault. its also the fault of the alpha trion toy i got a few weeks ago. Liongrampa gives me... ideas.

 

The room was just a bit dusty, which was to be expected with the odd bomb bouncing off the dome of the archives and knocking vorns worth of debris from the ceiling. Alpha Trion wasn’t worried about the integrity of the building. It had held up against countless Quintession bombings and, on one memorable occasion, the Unmaker himself. 

Also to be expected, with what was kept here. It wasn’t just datapads, although there were those too. Banks upon banks of memory storage held the sum total of the knowledge of Cybertron. He had guarded it for almost longer than he could remember. He was beginning to think most of Cybertron had forgotten what he really was, and just because he didn’t use ‘prime’ as part of his name or fought in grand interstellar battles didn’t change what he was. 

Alpha Trion snorts. Sparklings, the lot of them. The thought is more fond exasperation than anything, this war just par the course. The conflict’s scale was usually smaller, but the cities had always been getting into tiffs with each other. That hadn’t changed, even back when his brothers had died and only he and a few younglings had survived. 

He still didn’t know what had gone wrong on that distant world. Megatronus had always been unstable, but he had held it together. What had happened to finally push him over the edge? Unless his Fallen brother returned from only Pits knew where he would probably never know.

A quiet field flits across the edges of his own, bringing his attention to the young Prime haunting the deeper part of the archives. Optimus Prime is linked into a nearby console and combing the database for information on the AllSpark. Alpha Trion’s lips twitch; he wonders when it will occur to Optimus to just ask. Probably not for a while, Optimus’ need for independence knew no bounds. Alpha Trion had taught him well in that aspect. Being handed all the answers would have never taught his young student how to think for himself. 

Alpha Trion’s gaze slides over the younger Prime’s frame, curious despite himself. This was the first time he’s seen Optimus in person since his frame had matured and he had finally been identified as the Prime he was. He had known this one was special, ever since he hand-picked him from the youth sector. 

What he did _not_ know was how one of Prima’s few Prime sparklings had escaped Megatronus’ rampage across Cybertron. So many younglings had died that day, most barely old enough to defend themselves. Finding Optimus had been the answer to many of his prayers. For a long time, he had thought the only other survivor was Sentinel. That of all the others, the fact that one of Maximo’s brats had pulled through had never ceased to annoy him, and to have known he might one day be leaving Cybertron to that little pit-spawned glitch had left him snarling on more than one occasion. 

But still, Optimus had made it to adulthood. _Barely_ , he notes with some dry humor. Now, rather than a youngling incapable of staying out of trouble, he was a fully grown mech incapable of staying out of trouble, and if Optimus honestly thought he was getting away with sneaking out to see that gladiator of his, he had another thing coming. 

Optimus’ field flickers faintly in frustration, although his frame betrays none of it as deep in the mainframe as he is. Alpha Trion shudders as another wave of frustration brushes against him. A newly matured Prime’s fields were always something else. Bright and active in a way that makes even his dusty old systems slowly wake.

He snorts to himself, turning away. He is too old to be letting some youngling get him worked up like this. Alpha Trion is able to hold out for a klik before his gaze shifts back to Optimus, optics trailing down his frame to come to rest on his aft. 

It…has been a long time, hasn’t it? Since he last interfaced with another Prime? His gaze goes distant, thoughts turning to old memories of long long ago. Of the Hives, before their kind had bothered with what most species would call ‘civilization’. Oh, those had been good times. When the Hives would come together and he would fight one of the others until someone went down, then….well. 

Alpha Trion shifts slightly in his seat, his armor hot at memories of both victories and losses. Dammit. He huffs silently, giving Optimus another thoughtful look and wondering if the younger Prime would be amenable. 

Possibly. Hmm..

A few cubes of high grade would suffice in getting Optimus to unwind a bit. The youngling was a little too proper for his own good sometimes. 

There is a smile on Trion’s lips as he rises from his spot near another server bank and heads back to his private rooms. Where _was_ that stash of high grade anyways?

X X X 

Optimus is pulled out of his near-trance by a mild field. He slides back to physical awareness, a hand resting on his shoulder. The grip tightened slightly at his waking EM field before pulling back. 

“Alpha Trion.” He greeted warmly. His teacher eyed him with little amusement.

“I think you’ve done enough research for today, Optimus.” The young Prime hesitates, going over his most recent leads and how close he was to another breakthrough. 

“None of that now.” Trion’s stern voice cuts off any protest, the hand that had been on Optimus’ shoulder now firmly gripping his arm. He was tugged effortlessly out of his seat, mechhandled and jostled until Alpha Trion was able to disconnect the hardline tieing Optimus to the archive’s database. The sudden loss of its presence in his possessor leaves him feeling empty. 

Optimus sighs and allows himself to be steered down the aisles and towards a side hall deeper into the complex. There was no point arguing with Alpha Trion when he was in one of his _moods_. However, rather than get a lecture on his work habits, Optimus’s field fluctuates in confusion as they walk past the turn for the small suit of room Optimus had called home. A few more turns and Optimus knew where they were going. He’s been in Trion’s rooms plenty of times before. The old mech probably just wants to make sure Optimus actually recharges rather than sneak back out into the servers again. Something he _definitely_ wasn’t guilty of having done before. 

They pause at a door no different than any of the others, the panel sinking into the wall before sliding aside. Alpha Trion’s rooms are the same as ever, Optimus notes. It had taken a bit of research and insistent questioning to learn that the room wasn’t simply designed to look like a part of one of the ancient Hives, but the archives had been built right _over_ the core of one such Hive. The Hive that would eventually be Iacon. 

Thus the rooms were actually part of the original structure. To the inexperienced mech, it could be a bit jarring, going from the smooth halls and sharp geometry of the main archive to the curving, spiky, almost organic-looking structure of the Hive. The room is surprisingly normal beyond such features; a curving desk looking as though it grew out of one wall, a pair of modern, comfortable couches that take up the other side of the room. They look completely out of place, but extremely comfortable he remembers well. He’s fallen into recharge on them while covered in datapads more than once. Resting on the low table between the couches are several cubes of energon. Optimus perks up a bit at that. The brilliant color denoted what could only be high grade. The city isn’t exactly on low rations yet, but finding a cube of high grade was usually more trouble than it was worth. Where the Pit had Alpha gotten five cubes of it?

“Are you going to continue to stand there and look like a sharkticon out of water or join me?” Alpha Trion asked dryly. Optimus blinks and shot a look at the older mech, who was already halfway to the couch. How he moved so fast, Optimus would never know. 

Optimus hesitates for a moment--waiting for Alpha Trion to take a cube before picking one up. He doesn’t notice the amused flicker in Trion’s optics at this, too busy settling into the couch and taking a sip of the high grade. It slides smoothly down his intake, far thicker than any energon, high grade or not, that he’s ever had. A deep heat spreads from his tank as the rich energon takes hold. Optimus lets his optics fall half closed, savoring the flavor. There are hints of so many things in it, magnesium and silver for sure. He isn’t sure he’d ever _had_ highgrade this good. Ironhide would be jealous. 

Alpha Trion watches him with amusement for a long klik before speaking. “It’s nice to see Solas’ special high grade is still appreciated by any who try it.” Funny as it would be, he was fairly certain Solas would rise from The Well to throttle him if he wastes her special stash on a spit take; Optimus has frozen – staring at him. Alpha Trion smirks and takes a deep drink from his own cube, watching the younger Prime. 

“It…what?” Trion snorts at that. 

“Solas was bored one vorn and decided to improve on high grade. This was the result. I stole a few cubes and had it stashed away for special occasions. Your final upgrades certainly count as such.” He answers with a faint smile. Optimus’ finials flick back in embarrassment, unsure how to handle the compliment. Every mech got final upgrades. What made his special?

Oh wait. 

“Did you know?” he asks before a sudden bout of bravery deserts him. “That..that I was going to be a Prime?” Alpha Trion considers him for a long moment, taking another drink from his cube before responding.

“I did.” Trion answers thoughtfully. “As to why I never told you, well, I didn’t want to risk it going to your processor, something I found to be very unlikely as I came to know you better. But I didn’t want anyone to learn of it and to try to control you before you came of age. I also didn’t want my dear brother finding out someone other than myself and Maximo’s brat had survived his rampage.” He snorts and stares down into his cube. 

“Maxi- wait _yourself?”_ Alpha Trion gave him a dry look. 

“Optimus, I know just how much time you spend in the archives. Even _Sentinel_ knows the names of the first thirteen, though I’m beginning to suspect Primus’s hand in no one remembering me.” He rolls his optics in exasperation at Optimus’ gaping. 

Alpha Trion was a Prime? It…..it was weird, though now that his old mentor had pointed it out, it was obvious. But… 

The heavy warmth of Trion’s field fell over him, wry amusement woven through them. “Don’t overthink it, Optimus.” Optimus sighs, letting his optics fall closed at a comforting nudge from Trion. He doesn’t react when a gentle servo pulls his half full cube from his hand and sets it on the table. There was a tug as he is pulled into Alpha Trion’s lap, which was met only with a grumble as they fall into the familiar routine of careful fingers rubbing his audial fins. 

“I can only imagine why Primus might not have wished others to know of my survival. Perhaps people really _are_ simply that unobservant.” Optimus shivers as the older Prime’s field begins to take on a different feel, tightening around him and twisting pleasantly against his own. He feels one of Trion’s hands leave his shoulder, the other still caressing his audial as it slips down to his chestplates. Fingers toy at a gap in the plates, finding a sensor cluster that had the younger Prime arching into Alpha Trion’s grip with a hiss. The older Prime hums in amusement and continues to press at the sensors, tiny shocks leaving his fingers and making the joints spark. Now, this is new.

Optimus squirms in his grasp and Alpha Trion reluctantly lets him go, allowing the younger Prime to sit up. Optimus eyes him uncertainly, unsure if he was misinterpreting something or if Trion actually…. 

He’d written it off as a system failure, but Alpha Trion’s cooling vents had been whirring quietly since the old mech had pulled him out of the database, hadn’t they?

But…why would Trion want him? 

“Is this just because I’m another Prime?” he asks uncertainly. Alpha Trion quirked a brow up at him. 

“Hardly. Interfacing with another Prime is nothing like taking a normal mech, that’s true, but if that’s all I wanted I would have fragged Sentinel through the floor long ago.” Trion’s field reaches back out to encompass him with interest and affection. “You’d needn’t worry that that is all I care about, Optimus.”

 Optimus hesitates for a few moments before letting Alpha Trion’s field back in and allowing himself to be tugged back into the other’s lap. 

Alpha Trion’s servos quickly find their way back under Optimus’ armor, tracing wires and sensors. Trion smirked to himself when he feels the telltale vibrations of Optimus’ cooling fans kick on. The younger mech was trying to be quiet about his growing interest. 

“Let us take this elsewhere, Optimus. I should hardly think you wish to interface on the couch?” Alpha Trion teased, scooping the younger Prime up in his arms like he weighed nothing, ignoring the indignant yelp this earned him. 

X X X

Optimus has to work to keep his moans silent as oversensitized armor rubbed against another. He’s honestly dumbfounded that the ancient archivist can haul him down the hall like this. Perhaps when he had been smaller it was an easier feat, but he was nearly as large as Alpha Trion now!

The Prime didn’t seem to be having any issue with it, however. The dim halls of the old Hive widened into a large room, easily a few hundred mechanometers across, the low,arched ceiling keeping it from feeling too cavernous. Radiating out from the center in concentric rings were shallow, bowl-like depressions. He wanted to inspect the strange architecture some more, but it was hard to focus on something besides the feeling of Alpha Trion’s heated armor against his. After being pulled past one, his processor puts two and two together to recognize what he was looking at. Nests!

The flexible mesh that forms the bowls was supposedly quite comfortable, but he’d never heard about a nesting cavern this large. Usually, they were found in twos and threes in small nodules of the massive cave networks of the old Hives. Then again, no one had ever found any of the central nests (something that was odd in of itself, Optimus belatedly notes, they were in the middle, how hard could it be to find?). 

“I can all but hear your possessor churning away, Optimus,” Trion chides as they near the center. “You can ask your questions later, but I believe we have other things to occupy ourselves with right now.” 

Alpha Trion tightens his grip on him slightly as he steps over the rim of the largest depression yet, the armor on his shoulders oddly raised, his field a wild thrill of excitement and lust. Optimus arches against him at the feeling, his own field attempting to reciprocate only to be contained and pressed inward. So that was how it will be. 

Alpha Trion growls, the sound more physical than audible as he kneels to set the young Prime in the center of the nest. Optimus moves to prop himself up only to be all but flattened as the older Prime pins him down. Trion gives a guttural hum, pleased as he presses Optimus harder into the nest, practically rendering him immobile. Optimus isn’t sure what part of his programming prompted him to bear his throat and trill back at the sound, but the startled pulse of Alpha Trion’s field is gratifying. 

“And here I thought you wouldn’t know how to answer,” he murmurs, pressing his lip plates to the bared neck cables in a gentle kiss rather than a sharp bite, as Optimus had been half-expecting. Trion chuckles softly.

“Did you think I was going to take you like a mechanimal, Optimus?” he teases, his glossa running a wet stripe up the main energon line in the younger Prime’s neck. “Perhaps I should? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Optimus shivers, biting back a moan and helplessly arching up into the touch. Alpha Trion has shown him his second alt before, and the great CyberLion he had become was awe inspiring. The idea of being pinned under those massive paws, jaws holding his neck as the older Prime rutted him until he collapsed. The next moan is certainly not quiet. 

With a near inaudible click, Optimus’ valve panel snaps aside. Alpha Trion laughed, the sound a great booming echo in the massive room. “Not quite the pure little archivist everyone thinks, hm?” 

Optimus manages a halfsparked glare at his old mentor. Please, like _he_ was one to talk! 

Another earnest lick had Optimus squirming, trying to get an arm loose. A primal part of his processor wants to drag a few of those same interesting sounds out of Alpha Trion as the older Prime was doing to him, one servo having moved to dig into the wires at Optimus’ hip joint. Trion is maddeningly close to Optimus’ dripping valve, and knows it too.

Alpha Trion shifts his weight, preventing Optimus from wriggling anywhere. He rumbles, amused, and a moment later filaments of the nest come loose and wrap around Optimus’ limbs. Optimus froze, glancing up at Alpha Trion, who no longer needed to hold Optimus down. The older Prime gently brushes his audial fins. “It’s alright, Optimus. The nest is simply a bit more versatile than most would think. A good thing too. Your carrier was always a wriggly bastard those times I won our battles and managed to drag him back here.” He leans down to kiss Optimus’ throat again. “Although I am sad to say you’re not one of the sparklings I left him with on those occasions.” 

Optimus blinks up at him through a haze of arousal, startled. Alpha Trion knew which Prime had carried him? How many more secrets had the old Prime hidden from him?

“Prima always enjoyed our battles. I was one of the few of us who could actually beat him with some regularity,” Trion adds as the hand on Optimus’ hip drops lower, his fingers brushing along the lips of Optimus’ valve. He didn’t get the chance to think about the identity of his carrier much as one of those servos slipped past the edge of his valve, pressing gently inward. Optimus hips jerked up, trying to force Alphas finger deeper, a sharp moan escaping him. The single servo began to thrust carefully, a second slipping inside before too long, scissoring apart to stretch tight calipers.

“Optimus...” Alpha Trion’s voice takes on a decidedly teasing edge, causing Optimus to try and focus on the older Prime. “You wouldn’t happened to have taken a look at your own spike since your final upgrade, would you?” Optimus shook his head. 

“B..busy,” he stutters as Trion’s servos presses against a particularly sensitive node, pausing for an instant to caress it before picking up the rhythm again. 

“Hm… I suppose you were…” Alpha Trion agreed. Oh, Optimus doesn’t like that glitter of mischief in the older Prime’s optics. He got the feeling that he should have checked out his interface equipment before today. “No matter, you’ll see. Although after today I doubt you’ll be able to interface with a normal mech without being rather unimpressed, regardless of how big they are.” Optimus has little room to think on that as Alpha Trion spends the next few kilks expertly robbing him of the ability to do little more than writhe and moan like a pleasure bot. 

When the click of an interface panel reaches the younger Prime’s audials, he has mostly forgotten

Alpha Trion’s teasing warning. Optimus arched up under his touch, a low, desperate whine escaping his vocalizer at the thought of _finally_ getting something bigger than a few servos in his valve. Alpha Trion shifts carefully, the threads binding the young Prime’s legs falling away to allow Trion to tug him open further. 

Optimus manages a low, shaky purr when he felt the hot, blunt head of Alpha Trion’s spike part the folds of his valve. The older Prime shifts again, then begins to press inside. Optimus wriggles under him, hips hitching and trying to encourage Trion to go faster. Something….something is off, though. Optimus gives a puzzled groan at the odd sensation. Alpha Trion leans down to nuzzle Optimus’ neck, the younger Prime feeling a sly smile on his lips as the spike finally bottomed out. The stretch is wonderful, the sensation of being so full satisfying something on a primitive level. 

Then Alpha Trion pulls out. 

Optimus’ back struts bow at sudden onslaught from his sensors. Unable to make a sound, and unsure whether it would have been one of pleasure or protest, Optimus writhed as Trion chuckled in his audial, his own voice thick with static. 

As he pressed back in, Alpha Trion reaches over, freeing one of Optimus’ arms only to tug it between them. Optimus shivers as his servo is guided to his own spike, seemingly pressurized and leaking a copious amount of lubricant. The old Prime bottoms out inside him once more, spike pressed _just_ _right_ against his ceiling node, and remained there while Optimus’ uncertain fingers explore his own spike. A careful thumb brushes along something that just about crashed his possessor all on it own. Tiny curved barbs ran along the top of his spike, each one seemingly having a sensor of its own embedded in the tip. He can feel two other rows running up the bottom as well. They aren’t sharp as far as his static-laced possessor could tell, but it is no wonder Alpha Trion was being so careful with him. He could probably still tear the lining of his valve if he gets too rough. 

“Maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you take my valve later…” Trion purrs in his audial, and the thrill that ran through Optimus has his valve clamping down hard on that wonderful spike. Alpha smirks, planting another gentle kiss on Optimus’ neck before beginning to move once more. 

Charge crawls across Optimus’ plating as he keens, shaking, trying to pull his arms or legs loose to drag Alpha Trion closer to him, to make him go harder and faster. But the old Prime keeps to his slow and steady slide, and only a kilk later saw Optimus’ charge finally snapping, energy crackling over his plating as he overloaded harder than he remembers ever having done. Alpha Trion shudders over him at the delicious feeling of Optimus’ valve clamping down on his spike, but he doesn’t slow down. The continuing onslaught pushes Optimus right from one overload into the next. And the next. And the next. Finally, with a deep snarl, the older Prime presses deep one last time, charge cracking over them both as he overloads, filling Optimus’ gestation tanks to the brim as he presses a tiny bit further to pry open the tight calipers sealing them closed. 

He collapsed in a tired, sated heap over Optimus’ unconscious frame, following the younger Prime into recharge a few clicks later. 

XXX

Optimus comes online slowly, the lazy spin of his spark leaving him ill-inclined to move even a micron. That is, if the heavy weight blanketing his back could have allowed it. The dull ache in his valve brings back the previous cycle’s memories, and Optimus rumbles a deep purr, utterly content in a way he hasn’t felt in vorns. 

A similarly deep rumble vibrates across Alpha Trion’s armor above him. The old Prime moves a servo up to brush Optimus’ audial, chirring happily when Optimus tilts his head slightly, pressing into the touch. 

Trion hums thoughtfully before heaving himself up and off of Optimus. Optimus doesn’t even have time to voice a regretful sigh when the sound of the older Prime transforming draws his attention. Before he can turn to look, a heavy paw lands between his shoulders, pinning him down on his front. A hot ex-vent blows across his neck struts, accompanied by a low growl. Optimus shivers, optics wide, a thrill running through him. Surely, Alpha Trion wasn’t going to? But the sharp nudge of Alpha’s field has Optimus slowly getting to his knees, his back barely brushing Alpha’s chest. An embarrassed but enthusiastic thrill ran through his fields as Trion sunk his teeth carefully into Optimus’ neck struts holding him still as he brought his spike to bare on Optimus’ already well used valve. He had the feeling they were going to be down here for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> huzza, the dragon writes porn! Was it good for you to? *batts eyes*  
> I’v got another one of these coming later, an Primus/Unicron piece, its fluffy smoop with a bitter sweet ending. My editor is raving about it. *waves at Cam*


End file.
